


After the Credits Roll

by miss_nettles_wife



Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: F/M, Final Girl, Horror Tropes, Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 11:27:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16407626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_nettles_wife/pseuds/miss_nettles_wife
Summary: No one told you what happens after the end of a horror movie.No one told you that you’d be expected to keep living.





	After the Credits Roll

**Author's Note:**

> dont write much in second person because i think it's kinda boring but......oh well.

No one told you what happens after the end of a horror movie.

After the police tape is removed, and the ink dust is scrubbed from the carpet. After you’ve finally gotten the last of your best friend’s blood from your hair and scrubbed your own out from beneath your nails. After the inquest and the questioning.

No one, not even one ever told you about what happens after all of that.

No one told you that you’d be expected to keep living.

-

You moved to New Jersey after high school.

Edgar Teller is a year younger than you but he's almost out of college. He's the smartest person you've ever met. He's polite, sweet and well spoken. He might be your favorite customer at the dinner you've found work at. Most of all, he has no idea who you are.

Back home, no one would touch you, no one wants to know you. You’re the girl who lost everything. Here, and to him, you are just Marilyn. And that’s exactly how you like it. He doesn’t have many friends, from what you can tell. He’s a loner. Likes his books more than people. In high school, you would have called him a nerd or a loser but now? It’s all just killing time, and it all means nothing. Nothing you did in high school means a damn thing.

No one back home could ever understand. Your parents signed you up to go to some sort of grief counseling. You were out of place, among the fiances of car crash victims and brothers of cancer patients. They seemed to know it too, that you are not where you belong. You go a couple more times, but other peoples grief is overwhelming. You feel like you're not feeling enough. Eight people died, and you are the only survivor but all you can think about is how your best friend will never go to prom with you. 

Edgar Teller is nothing like the boyfriend you used to have. The one that died after sleeping with your best friend that night. When he comes into your place of work with a big bouquet of flowers that took months to die, and his stuttering voice,

“Marilyn,” he said, “Marilyn, would you like to come see a movie with me, this weekend? I know that you’re probably busy but if you aren’t?”

You think that perhaps it’s better that he’s not.

You tell him, of course, you would, and to pick you up at six thirty. He promises to be there and he is.

He is.

-

You carried your virginity like a shield.

It's pathetic but true. No self-respecting horror movie villain would kill off the virgin.

You have been seeing Edgar for a few months and he has never once pushed it. Never asked either. His kisses are sweet and his hands are warm. You would have gone all the way with Jack, probably. But you didn’t then, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since Jack so you’ve never had another chance.

Edgar still doesn’t know. You will tell him when the time is right. He has no idea about how the world can end in a moment, and about how it feels to hold your best friend while she crosses over. And there’s no reason for him too. He’s innocent and the world needs a lot more innocent people in it if it’s going to survive.

But tomorrow, you will not be innocent anymore. You’ve decided on that.

-

You only went all the way once and you got knocked up. Figures.

You were worried about telling Edgar. He’s only young and he has so much on his plate already. You wouldn’t blame him if he wasn’t happy. But he manages to surprise you again. He is happy, he’s elated. He tells you that he always wanted to be a father. He’s already writing up a list of names and calling his parents.

You haven’t spoken to yours in months.

For now, though, he takes you out to dinner and begins lobbing ideas at you for how he could improve the common household baby mobile. You're sure he's getting ahead of himself but haven't the heart to tell him to cool it. You muster up the energy he wants. It's the least you can do.

You settle on the name Cynthia three days before she is born, watching him hang up the mobile he made for her. It’s one of Artemis's names, he explains. A warrior name. If she’s going to survive in this world than she’ll need to be a warrior that much you know.

Your best friend had a sister named Cindy. You saw her at the funeral, ironed into a black dress, her wild curls pulled into two neat braids. Last you heard of her, she was trying to be a poet. She sends a book of poetry to you but you've never read it. It's on the bookshelf that you now share with your husband.

Fancy that.

-

You don’t sleep well.

You can use Syndi as an excuse now when people tell you that you look like Hell. You're well used to pretending that you aren't upset by that. You've seen Hell, these people have no idea about Hell. But you don't, you politely tell them you have a baby daughter. 

You finally introduce your parents to Edgar. They like him. Or they like that compared to him, you seem normal. They probably would have had you marry a boy back home, but they don't say that. Instead, they ask if you want to move back home while Edgar works on his thesis. Keep the crying baby away from him.

It isn’t their fault. They have no idea what they’re asking you to do.

It’s better here. With Edgar, and the life you’re building together. You can’t take Syndi back to that town, back to that house only three streets away from the one where you killed. Where two people you cared about were killed. You want to protect the child, and she will. If anyone ever even lifted a finger at her, then you would kill again and not regret a second of it.

-

Edgar’s first choice of name is Jack.

You can’t have a son named Jack.

You still haven’t told him.

“It’s a good strong name.” He said, “For a good strong boy.”

Your first choice is anything but Jack. Syndi suggests Marshall, apparently, it's the name of a character on a television show. You both like Marshall. Marshall it is. Edgar lets the Jack thing drop. You will have to tell him one day but the more time that passes between then and now the harder it is to find the right time.

When Marshall is born, and you hold him, you know he’s different. He’s just like you.

-

The move to Eerie, Indiana is a joint choice. You like it because you’re further from home. Edgar likes it because of his job. Syndi fits right into the town like she’d always been there. You don’t worry about Syndi so much. She can handle herself and has done her whole life. Once, when a boy snapped her bra strap she hit him the face with a dictionary.

You do worry about Marshall.

When he takes up studying the paranormal, you relax a little. It’s good for him to know about this. He knows more than you did and when the time comes, he will be able to protect himself better than you could.

You still haven’t told Edgar, but you think maybe he knows. It’s been almost twenty years but the past still holds onto you. Even so, you smile. You work. You love your family.

You sleep with a kitchen knife under your pillow just in case.


End file.
